


You Can't Just Pray it Full

by Ex-InternofSHIELD (SpawnofHades)



Series: Ex-SHIELD Agent Cole Barnes [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky almost had a good life, Cole needs a hug, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Peggy and Bucky were really good friends you can't tell me otherwise, TW: Violence, because seriously MCU, brain washing, implied panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpawnofHades/pseuds/Ex-InternofSHIELD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Director Carter, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Agent Steven Cole James Barnes, Level Nine."<br/>The five times Cole Barnes explained to other people who his father was and the one time he explained who his parents were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Just Pray it Full

**Author's Note:**

> AKA I shouldn't be allowed so much spare time on my hands.  
> Title is from "The Change" by Mindset Evolution.  
> 90% of Cole Barnes is me bsing my knowledge of how the hell the mutant gene works and how well I actually know Marvel comics. I apologize for any inconsistencies in canon. The X-Men canon is mostly the movies (with Sean and Alex being in the 2000s rather than the 1960s) and I took liberties on Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier in MCU.  
> And Clint's like 35 at the oldest during the one set post-Winter Soldier...  
> Other than that the ways each are written are mostly different style wise and I apologize for that.

**1\. Luke Barnes ******

Cole Barnes was thirteen when he and his younger brother, Luke, were hauled to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It was a day he would always remember because not only did he nearly lose Luke, but it was also the day Cole finally had to confess what happened to their parents six years prior. He lied straight through his teeth during some parts he didn't remember, others that a six year old didn't need to hear. He gave him a name at the very end. “James Barnes. Everyone called him Bucky though... well mostly everybody.”

\---

**2\. Peggy Carter ******

Cole sighed as he walked through the halls. He questioned why he was here, going to talk to some woman he didn't know. But he was there, stopped in front of the wooden door. It was probably one of his worse plans. The agent knocked once, stopped midway to the second by a British accent calling, “Come in.” His hand wrapped around the knob and pushed the door in. Ex-Director Carter was sitting on the balcony, a book in her hands. Seeing the withered woman was strange, knowing that she was a founding member of SHIELD. “May I ask who you are?”

He stood at attention, legs at shoulder width apart. “Director Carter, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Agent Steven Cole James Barnes, Level Nine.” There was no doubt that she was already recognizing who he was... who he was related to, and why he was here. “My father is... was Sargent James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes of the 107th and the Howling Commandos in World War II.”

Her eyes were watering and he hadn't pegged them as being close friends, though they shared Steve's time back in the day. “You look exactly like him. Please sit down Steven, make yourself at home.”

“I would prefer if you called me Cole, ma'am.”

\---

**3\. Clint Barton ******

Clint asked when they were laying in bed after a mission. Cole knew that it was destined to happen after Triplett let it slip on the plane back how they were both descended from Howling Commandos. There was a brief moment that Cole seriously considered lying to him, telling him that his grandfather was James Morita. It's plausible, mostly because he does look like James a little and there's a chance that Cole might actually be his grandson from his mom.

He doesn't lie, mostly because of his last name. “Back in eighty-seven my mother came across a man that didn't speak a word of English and had a metal arm. She investigated it, using her powers. And she ended up bringing Bucky back to the surface... somehow. I don't know.” Clint didn't say a word as Cole sat on the bed, staring at the wall. “She explained everything to him... They ran from Romania, I think. Found themselves in Australia. Stayed there until I came around in ninety. Off to America after that and Luke came around about six, seven years later.” He pulled his legs up to his chest, playing with the bullet pendant around his neck. It was a sniper bullet, from back in the 40s. A gift from his father. “Then the Red Room caught up. Mom hid us, called an old friend to come pick us up. They took Bucky, replaced him with the Winter Solider, I guess. I don't remember much that I didn't get from the videos mom left for me—SHIELD really, but they never got them.” They made eye contact and Cole huffed, rubbing his hand over his face. “You're the first person I've told. Triplett already knew; we kinda grew up together. Honestly, I know Barnes is a common last name, but you didn't add that together?”

Clint shook his head. “I did, just wanted to hear it from the source rather than assuming.”

\---

**4\. Natasha Romanov ******

The coffee he's drinking was not enough for him to function properly at thirteen hundred hours. His mental process still in partial Romanian when Nat barges into his apartment, a file in her hand. Something tells him that the upcoming conversation wasn't going to be something he would ever have enough coffee to sit though.

The file turns out to be his. “What?”

“James Barnes was your father.” It's not a question.

He sips at his coffee, looking at the red head. Everything added together slowly, but if he spoke it, it would come out in Romanian, not English. “Bucky was my father. Thanks for the painful reminder Nat.”

There's a short moment of silence as they stare at each other. It's probably a good thing that Clint was in Australia because he was sure the archer would pull some stupid joke or end up with one of Nat's knives too close to his shoulder for comfort. “James was my otets.” The word's Russian but Cole can figure out what it means as he stands up and walks over to the coffee maker. “Our father.” His hands start to shake violently enough that he couldn't pour another cup of coffee.

Cole snarls at Natasha, feeling the blood boiling deep in his veins, the sickening feel of bile and taste of metal in his mouth. The other spy didn't bat an eyelash as he pulls a knife out of his hoodie pocket and holds it up to her throat. “The Winter Soldier is not my father. Bucky Barnes is my tată.” It was clear that he's vibrating by the way his knife shakes against Natalia's neck. “Don't you ever think for one god damn moment that we share a father. I swear to what ever gods exist that I will put you back into the mindset of a six year old if you claim we share a father.”

The knife clatters to the hardwood and he only gives himself enough time to slide on a pair of ratty tennis shoes before he slams his apartment door behind him and starts to run far away from Black Widow.  
\---

**5\. Steve Rogers**

“Why do you look like Bucky?”

It was a simple question that should have had a simple answer. Only it really didn't, not to Cole. “I'm his son. One of them at least. Luke's his son too. There may be others we don't know about... then Natasha's his daughter.” Steve looked at him in disbelief for a moment before looking back over at the doorway where his half-sister and brother had disappeared hours before. “I don't fully understand with Nat, honestly I don't want to either because I don't want to know about his life as the Winter Soldier. But I understand with Luke and I.” He pulled up the video on his laptop, pushing it at an angle so Steve could see it as he pressed play.

Bucky was sitting on the couch grinning at a small boy, about three or so, asleep on the couch next to him. “Your mom's gone so I figured I might as well do this video while I still can.” Cole saw how Steve's fists curled and his breath caught in his throat. Seeing his best friend actually as his best friend after the shit fest that just happened... it had to hurt his surrogate/pseudo uncle. Not that Cole was going to be calling Steve, “Uncle Steve”, anytime soon—or at all. “Guess I'm feeling nostalgic today, so I'm going to tell you about my best friend, Steve Rogers. Your namesake.” There was a watery laugh and Cole had no desire to watch this video again, pushing himself from the bar stool and exiting the kitchen. He focused on anything but the sound of Bucky Barnes voice in the kitchen.

Alex sat by him a while, not saying anything but making enough noise to block out the video. Sean joined on his other side, helping block it out more. He would forever be grateful of his best friends being loud as hell even when they weren't running their mouths. Cole wasn't exactly sure how long they sat there, but he knew that they were gone when the video ended, leaving Cole to deal with the mess that was Steve Rogers. “He named you after me.”

“I'd rather you call me Cole though. It can get really confusing having two people with the same name on the same team. Plus I've gone by Cole my whole life and he called me Cole.” He took a sip of his soda, wishing it was a beer instead. “I'm not calling you Uncle Steve and no way in fucking hell am I going to be him. I'm not your best friend, I'm his son that he couldn't raise and wasn't around for most of my life.” Maybe his words held too much anger, too much bitter hate from the years he didn't get with his mother and father because of fucking Hydra and the Red Room taking him and molding him back into a weapon.

\---

**\+ 1 Bucky Barnes ******

“Hey Dad.” Cole sat down next to Bucky.

The older man didn't look over at him, instead holding out a pack of smokes and offering Cole one. “Don't call me Dad.” The younger shook his head, pulling out a joint he brought up to the roof. It took a few moments of him cursing and shielding the blunt from the wind before he managed to get it to catch.

He held the first hit in his lungs for a moment before blowing it out. The lights of New York gave Bucky a haunted look, though Cole felt it was more than the lights. “Yeah, it's kinda weird, considering you're like thirty something now and I'm twenty-six, and we were born seventy-ish years apart.” The words soaked in as he took another hit. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to avoid the plastic of his glasses with the lit paper. “Our family is so fucked up.”

“There's no 'our' family. How the hell can you even guarantee that I'm really your father?” Cole could see that coming from a mile away. Maybe that's why he already had the video pulled up on his phone, handing it over to Bucky while tapping on the screen. It was black with a yellow time stamp in the corner, reading 13/01/97.

The audio was jacked a little, static filling the air for a moment. The person pulled back from the camera, revealing a younger Bucky in a black tanktop with a red and black flannel pulled over it, his hair cut short, nearly cropped against his skull. “Cole, I figured I should do this before shit hits the fan. I can feel something, like the programming's coming back, or someone's coming for me. Hopefully, your mother gets both you and your brother out somewhere I can't find you, because I know that I will probably kill you both. If the Red Room finds me again, I'll forget both of you, everything that happened in the past ten years. You should know that I love you both so much and I didn't want to abandon you. If you're watching this... that means you survived, but I'm not there with you. And I'm sorry if at any point in time, I have attempted to harm you or kill you. It's not me though, and I beg of you, if you can... put a bullet through my skull so I can do no more harm to anyone.” Cole didn't look at Bucky's face, instead turning to look at the ground, so far below. He knew the words by heart at that point. “I look at you, and I see me. It scares me because I know you have the same path ahead of you if the Red Room gets you. Only you might have more because you may inheriate your mom's powers. It's probably better if I leave now, keep all of this as far away from you and your brother as I can. I've been around too long though, dig myself into a hole I can't crawl out of. If by any chance I show up again, as me, show me this.”

There was a moment where the audio cut out, and it came back with the end of a Russian word. “Iubito? De ce te-ai trezit așa de dereme?” Cole closed his eyes, taking a long drag of the blunt and picturing the image on the back of his eyes. The frames of his mother walking out in a too-large Nirvana tee, holding a small version of him on her hip. Bucky looking over his shoulder and smiling sadly before standing up and walking around the couch and kissing his mother on the lips. Cole was switched from her arms to Bucky's. Then Bucky walked over to the camera, leaning down into the lens. The last few frames were a seven year old Cole and Bucky staring into the camera lens.

Cole kept his eyes closed as the smoke left his nose. “There are more, mostly Mom. Sometimes both of you. That was one of three that you made. One was the day I came home, then on the day Luke was born and you were stuck at home with me. I don't know exactly why you were making these... they go on up until this one. The reports claim that a few days later Red Room came, you along with Luke and I were gone. Mom was dead.” He opened his eyes to look at Bucky. Eyes were roaming over his face. “I don't expect this to change a damn thing. I'm twenty-five, I don't need a father. You're clearly not ready to be a father again. Just... don't run off. Last time you disappeared from my life, my mom ended up dead and I'd rather not be her.”

“What happened to Luke?”

The younger snorted, looking towards Brooklyn. “He's living with Steve now. Calls him Uncle Steve. It's hilarious.” Cole took his phone back, carefully shoving it back into his pocket. “He wasn't... he hasn't seen any of these. Luke didn't know what happened that night except we didn't have either of our biological parents after it.”

“We were close?”

Cole shrugged, offering the joint to Bucky as he crushed the cigarette on the concrete of the roof. “I dunno, for sure. Probably. I don't remember much before I was seven; the Professor says I repressed most of the memories of my parents and the time I spent with them, the good and the bad. I have dreams sometimes, I don't remember most of them.” He blew out a clean breath, clutching his hands into the frame. “There's this nightmare I have. I dunno if it's real or not, if my brain's just making it up or something. It first started after I joined SHIELD, first time I was in combat. Couldn't sleep for weeks afterward. Xavier can't tell me for sure if it's real. It feels real, though.” The joint made its way back to his mouth and smoke filled his lungs. “I'm in the living room of the house, and Mom runs in. She tells me that we're going to play hide and seek with tată, you, and to find a really good hiding place. No matter what I stay where I'm hidden. And that if tată finds me that I should run as fast as I can.” He clenched his jaw, blinking. “I ran up the stairs, going to hide in my room, or your room—it changes every time—but I stop at the top. You walk into the room, dressed like you were when you had left that morning; something was off though. Mom's talking to you in Romanian—maybe Russian—begging you to come back to her, I think. You just tilt your head at her, then you walk over to her. She fights you, throwing everything she can at you. Then you reach out with the metal arm and rip her throat out.”

Bucky made a pained noise in his throat. Cole shut his eyes, trying to keep the tears in check. “Stop.”

“I don't feel anything. I just sit there, in shock. I want to scream, but it never happens. Maybe, my body knows that I would die if I did. There's this thought in the back of my head, that I should move, hide like Mom told me to...” Cole continued, breathing in smoke.

Bucky probably saw the pain in his face, in his body language. His voice broke when he begged, “Please, stop.”

His brain registered the words, but his mouth wouldn't stop. Because he had never told anyone this, not even Clint; he needs to tell someone. “But I don't move. Then you look up at me. 'I'm going to die.' Instead of walking up the stairs and finishing me, you just look at me. I could tell you were fighting with the Soldier.” Everything stopped and he's not breathing. The cold air was gone, replaced by the too-hot temperature of the house. Instead of the black of his eyelids, Cole looked at a seven year old version of himself, eyes wide as he held onto the railing. He realized, distantly, that he's experiencing one of Bucky's memories, not his own nightmare. That doesn't stop him from talking though. “It feels like years of you—your body really—staring at me with these dead eyes. Then the Soldier takes over, I think, but he doesn't kill me. He walks out of the room. I can hear the door shutting and I just collapse against the railing. Usually I wake up after that.” He didn't realize he was crying until he saw the tears collecting at the bottom of his glasses. “It was real.”

Neither of them move. The blunt was burned out when Cole let it fall to the city streets below. “I don't want you to make up for anything. I just don't want to live though that again.”


End file.
